


Misfortune

by SB_Ryan



Series: Recipe for Chaos [5]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-27
Updated: 2016-02-20
Packaged: 2018-04-11 10:40:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4432319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SB_Ryan/pseuds/SB_Ryan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Whilst the Wraiths are 'enjoying' their stay on Storinal; Sera Vane is not having a good time. </p><p>Her first solo mission away from Luke's supervision has ended in capture by the Imperials (again). Now she needs to find a way out before it's too late. </p><p>Some spoilers for Purge and the Storinal chapter of Diplomat's Daughter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. On the Freebird 2

**Author's Note:**

> So this latest installation of the saga of Sera Vane takes place during the same timeline as Diplomat's Daughter. 
> 
> Sera is almost 18 now; and desperate to show everyone that she can make it on her own - Gat, Trig, but perhaps especially her mentor, Luke.
> 
> As always; I hope you enjoy and if you do, please do check out my other works of Sera and Rina :)

7 ABY

Gat was bored.

They were between jobs and the Freebird 2 still seemed far too big for just himself and the diminutive mechanic who'd had to step up to the role of copilot since Se-

_'No. You promised no thoughts of that person for at least an hour remember?'_

Gat cursed his inner voice, it was starting to sass him just like - "Distractions. That's what I need now." Gat clapped his hands together and looked around his quarters desperately searching for a suitable distraction.

There was a reminder scrawled on the mirror in lipstick, Gat blushed as he remembered being drunk and raiding _her_  room for something to write with before he forgot. He had been surprised to see the small stash of cosmetics, it had really hammered home that she wasn't necessarily a kid any more.

"Ring the Doc."

_'Well now was probably as good a time as any.'_

Gat's blunt digits hovered for a moment, momentarily indecisive before punching in the Doc's details. There was a moment of static and garbled noise before someone picked up at the other end. Gat caught the tail end of what they were saying and the cheery greeting died in his throat.

"You!"


	2. 1 standard day earlier

 "I can't believe how much you've grown, beanpole. I believe I told you to quit once you hit six foot!" Sera mock glared up at the skinny redhead in front of her before he laughed and swung her off her feet in a rib-crushing bear hug.

"Midget."

"Nerd."

"Jawa."

"Ooh I'll get you for that you -"

Dr Cody watched the two young adults bicker like children, smiling fondly. She was still amazed at how well-adjusted they seemed, considering their traumatic experiences in the past decade or so.

It was hard to believe that Sera would soon be eighteen and even harder to believe Trig was only a week away from turning twenty-one. Her babies were definitely growing up too fast.

She privately thought it was a shame that those two never hit it off as anything more than the best of friends.

With Sera's strength of will and Trig's own keen wit; they would have had beautiful, brilliant babies. Mind you; she was almost certain that young Miss Vane had her eye on a significantly different target.

"Dr Z!" Sera wiggled effortlessly out of the headlock Trig had attempted to pull off and ran up the stairs to hug the older woman tightly. Zahara quickly hugged her tiny surrogate daughter back; displays of affection had always been a rare thing for the street urchin, but even more so since she had started her training.

"Some new grey hairs I see." Sera teased with a smile lurking in the depths of her muddy green eyes.

"All of them are your fault I swear." Dr Cody reluctantly released her grip and the two women walked down the stairs together. "I hope you are being careful Sera; Trig tells me all about those dangerous situations you get yourself in. Can't you just come home and find a nice boy to settle down with? Someone who won't let you fling yourself head first into terribly exciting things?"

"Nononononono!" Sera shuddered exaggeratedly at the idea of a warm and fuzzy ending, "Besides Jedi can't...you know." She made a gesture that made Trig blush to the roots of his hair.

"But you're still in training-"

"Well. That's not the point." Sera leaned a hip on the white stone bannister, one hand automatically going to adjust the plasspecs she no longer wore. She snorted at the habit and shoved her hand into her jacket pocket. "The point is that it is almost time."

Something in the kitchen area dinged and Dr Cody excused herself to rescue dinner.

Trig had clocked the small bag Sera had dropped by the door when she'd come in, but he knew she'd appreciate not having to actually ask for help. He waved her to follow him into the sitting room of their home and flopped down onto the sofa, patting the cushion beside him. Sera perched on the arm of the sofa instead and glared at him. "Nearly time..." She prompted, trying to get him to pick up her train of thought.

"Time for what?" Trig asked, slipping off his shoes and propping his feet up on the low table that was mostly buried under medical journals and Dr Cody's guilty pleasure gossip holomags.

"Oh just an annual event. One that happens roughly this time of year. Kinda important, especially this year." Sera said.

Trig pretended to ponder for a while, holding back a smirk; knowing Sera was itching to hit him with something.

"Oh for the love of the Force! It's our joint nameday you troll!" Sera threw a pillow at his head and let herself fall backwards onto the sofa; turning so her head ended up on Trig's lap and her legs dangled off the end of the maroon sofa.

"Ah... That annual event." Trig said in faux revelation.

"You are such a pain."

"So what's the plan this year then?" He said, toying with the strands of brown hair that tumbled over his knees.

"Dunno. Needs to be something massive though." Sera sighed, knowing that she wouldn't get what she really wanted. "It's a biggie. We'll both be hitting big numbers this year and it'll mean I'll officially be my own person and can go where I want."

"Still not fitting in then?"

Sera sniffed and sat up, "Shut it Ginge. Don't be all mushy and stuff or I'll just leave again." Her stomach rumbled, "After dinner." She amended before leaning against her best friend's shoulder.

"You still not heard from G-"

Sera shook her head, "I'll tell you about it later; when we're back at yours. If you don't mind me crashing there for a night or two?"

Trig stood and pulled Sera up, "You're such an idiot." He smiled, "Just warning you know, Zahara's cooking hasn't changed." Trig leaned down to whisper in Sera's ear, "We may have to stop for proper food on the way home."

Dr Cody's voice drifted out from the kitchen, "I heard that young man!"

The pair in the living room exchanged a terrified look before bolting for the door.


	3. It's like a droid pissed off a witch...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trig brings Sera home, she gives him an early nameday present.

Trig rubbed the back of his head in embarrassment as they stopped outside his apartment door, "Look, I uh wasn't really expecting company so..."

"Oh my God Trig; are you seriously giving me the messy room line?" Sera rolled her eyes and pushed past him.

He hadn't been wrong. Dirty clothes lay crumpled in the general vicinity of the end of the bed. "Sweet Force Trig; please tell me you don't bring girls back here."

The handsome young doctor in training blushed again.

Sera grimaced and edged past something unidentifiable on her way to the table at the far side of the small apartment. She dropped her bag on the table and rummaged in it for a moment before pulling out a small box, "Oi, c'mere Longo."

Trig wandered over, discreetly kicking a discarded pair of undershorts under his bed.

"Happy early nameday Freckles." Sera slid the box over to him and pointedly looked away. She wasn't great with the touchy-feely stuff, but wanted to see his face; just in case she didn't get a chance to later.

"Aw hell Sera; I haven't got you anything yet. I had kinda expected you to not show up until the last minute you know."

Sera snorted, "Just open the box Longo."

As Trig touched the badly-tied bow; the box twitched. "Uh-"

"Don't worry; you won't get any nasty surprises. Padawan's honour."

Trig ripped the bow off and gingerly removed the lid, nestled inside the box were small models of droids: there was a 2-1B like Waste on the Purge; a silver 3PO and a tiny MSE droid. None was more than a foot high and all were perfectly to scale.

Trig lifted them out one by one and laughed as they began to walk around the tabletop. "Did you make these?"

Sera nodded, "Yep. They're not as useful as proper droids, but I thought you'd like the company."

She flinched as Trig leapt up from his chair and swept her up in another bone crushing hug.

"Okay, lemme go you great wookiee!" Sera protested half in jest.


	4. The Call

The next morning found Sera perched on the edge of the table, kicking the end of the bed Trig was still cocooned in.

She'd been awake since dawn, had done her meditations, recalibrated her training lightsaber, and designed another tiny droid replica. Sera knew she should be practicing patience, but damnit she had been stuck away in the academy for almost a year and she didn't want to waste a moment of her freedom.

She checked her wrist chrono and saw it was now 8am, definitely late enough for Trig to be awake. Sera poked Trig gingerly with one sock-clad foot; her adopted brother was often cranky if woken before noon. He grunted something unintelligible and swatted at the intruder. Sera smirked and nudged him again.

Much as she'd never ever admit it to anyone (not even Han or even 'he who is too stubborn to appreciate what a great catch she really is'), she did miss the companionship her unconventional family had given her over the years since the Purge and the zombie horde.

Trig quite spectacularly failed to do anything remotely resembling getting out of bed. Sera decided to pull out the big guns and tapped a few commands into her datapad. A few seconds later all of the electronic devices in the apartment blared into noisy life; Trig did a rather accurate impression of a startled gurr-cat as he flung himself out of the bed.

He glared myopically at the hand holding out a steaming mug of caf. Trig clawed his way back onto the bed and clutched the caf to him like a highly-caffeinated lifeline. "Good Sera. Death averted."

"Come on, up! Up! Up!" Sera prodded Trig in the ribs until he reluctantly got to his feet. "I can feel my freedom slipping away whilst you're snorting like a bloody bantha!"

He yawned and allowed her to shove him to the 'fresher; still too sleepy to enact any kind of retaliation.

"Juss don' take caf." Trig mumbled as the door closed behind him.

Sera checked the chrono on her datapad and huffed in irritation. She knew from painful experience, that her favourite human took the best part of an hour to get ready so she'd still be bored.

Sera tried to find that still, small place inside of her that Luke had been trying to help her find. Privately, Sera was relieved that it was proving difficult to get to for long. She hadn't even told Luke that sometimes, when it was quiet, that she could still hear Blackwing. Or the flower it came from. She didn't like to think about it too much. A sudden bleeping from the holo terminal jolted her out of her reverie.

Sera blinked in surprise, the sound of the shower had shut off and she called out, "Hey there hairless wookiee, your phone's ringing."

Trig didn't reply, he was probably still primping.

Sera growled and answered the insistent ring before it stopped. She opened her mouth to say something, but when she saw who it was on the other end, all thoughts flew out of her head.

"You!"

Sera leaned against the table behind her and drank in the sight of a very familiar and welcome face. He looked older, Sera was surprised to realise. He'd finally got some new shirts though and the pale cloth really brought out that roguish look she'd fallen in love with years ago.

"Gat." She tried for stern and impassive, but failed miserably, breaking into a huge smile, unable to stay mad at the red-skinned idiot. "How in the world are you? How's Anzhu? I hope you're taking care of my ship!"

"Your ship? Pretty sure I'm the one in the pilot's chair Vane." The Devaronian gestured at the cockpit around him.

Sera looked over as the 'fresher door opened and Trig stepped out. "Hey Trig! Guess who's on the phone? Go get the babies will ya?"

Back on the Freebird 2, Gat felt a sudden pressure on his heart; not entirely sure he'd heard her right. He mentally replayed the conversation. Nope. She'd definitely asked Trig to get the 'babies' and she **was** in Trig's apartment at what looked like morning judging by the light streaming in through the window.

Gat quickly tried to count back the months since their last Argument. The one which had ended with Sera leaving him behind.

Leaving with that bloody Han Solo no less!

He didn't claim to be an expert on human biology, but he was sure she hadn't been gone long enough for there to have been time for them to have-

Wait...didn't Jedi have like a vow of celibacy or something?

Gat was still speechless when Trig, hair still wet from his shower popped into view,

"Oh hey Gat."

"Hi Kid. What's Sera talking about? Do I need to be adding some more names to your lifeday cards?" Gat tried to sound appropriately cheery.

"Of for the love of the Force." Sera shoved the blushing and confused Trig out of the way and let the three little droids she'd given him wander around the table. "I managed to get past the issue of getting everything to scale."

She smirked at the Devaronian, "Besides, we both know Trig isn't my type."

Gat quickly buried the rush of relief and simply stared at Sera for a moment; she looked healthy and happy.

A little part of him wondered if she'd missed them even a little. "So, what are you doing on Chandrila then?" He asked.

Trig yawned and said, "I live here."

Sera rolled her eyes, "He meant what am _I_ doing here you big dummy."

The 'big dummy' ruffled her hair and shuffled out of Gat's view to refill his mug of caf.

Sera's smile faded a little, "I've uh joined the rebellion."

Gat frowned, "What-?"

"I just needed a break from following everybody's rules but mine." She glared right back at him, "I thought I should get some 'life experience'." Sera threw his words from their last Argument back at him.

"Look. Kid, I-"

Whatever Gat was going to say was lost as the door to Trig's apartment was kicked open and a squad of stormtroopers burst in.

"Sera! What's happening?!" Gat yelled as the holoterminal flickered.

"Gat!"

He heard her scream in pain as one of the stormies punched her in retaliation of her taking down the trooper who had grabbed Trig.

"No!" He slammed his fist down on the console and roared for Anzhu to hang on to something.

Time to go to Chandrila.


	5. The Aftermath

"Anzhu!" Gat yelled as he strode from the holocomm terminal.  
The blue-furred squib's head popped out of a service duct, "Yes Boss?"  
"We're leaving. Now." The Devaronian growled.  
"But the Deal Man is still on the ship-"  
"Get rid of him anyway you want. We're in space in five."  
The squib bared his teeth in a savage grin; he'd been itching for the opportunity to test his wrist-mounted flame cannons for months now. 

\---

Too many standard hours later for Gat's liking, they finally arrived in Chandrilan airspace.  
The instant the ship's landing struts touched down onto the ferrocrete of the spaceport, Gat was up and striding out of the cockpit.  
"Keep her hot and ready to go Fuzzbutt, depending on what I find, I might be coming in fast." Gat gruffly ordered as the hatchway closed behind him.  
The ex-miner slid down the seldom-used crew ladder in a bid to get to the ground quicker.  
He fretted as the customs droid scanned his identity cards and itched to just push past, but was well aware that he couldn't afford to be cooling his heels in the spaceport holding cells.  
After what seemed like an eternity, the Devaronian grabbed his ID and practically sprinted to where there were speeders for hire.  
"I need your fastest bike." Gat growled at the bored-looking attendant.  
"There's a two hour wait." The bored teen droned, not even looking up from his magazine.  
"Now." The Devaronian tossed a bag of credits onto the counter where the jingle of money perked up the apathetic attendant.  
Gat deftly caught the keyfob and stormed off without a second look. He wasn't sure how many traffic laws he smashed on his way to the Doc's house, but he really couldn't give a damn.  
He shot through the gate to Cody's semi-secluded house and skidded to a halt by the front door.  
"Doc?" He called out as he jogged up the steps to the front door, "Kid?"  
Gat hammered on the door until it opened and he was tugged inside.  
Dr Cody stood in the hallway, looking as haggard and stressed as she had on the Purge, "Oh, Gat. They took her!"  
Gat wrapped his arms around the shaking woman, "Ssh Doc. I'll get her back." He saw Trig limping toward them, the cuts and bruises standing out starkly against his pale, freckled skin.  
"You okay kid?"  
Trig nodded, and winced at the pain.  
Gat stepped away from Zahara and held out a hand to Trig.  
"I couldn't stop them Gat." The youngster said miserably, "I tried, but there were too many of them."  
"Force kid, you didn't have a chance." The older man said, gingerly pulling Trig into another of Gat's famous man hugs. "Did you hear anything about why they wanted Sera, or where they were taking her?" Gat asked gruffly.  
Trig scowled and flinched when his cuts pulled painfully, "I went back to my place and it seems my dearest Jedi managed to leave a clue in her pack. She's not changed the password on her datapad since we were kids."  
Gat smothered the urge to shake the information out of the poor boy. Force knew it wouldn't help him get to Sera any quicker.  
A small part of him knew how irrationally he was acting and that was driving him even more crazy.  
"They took her to a planet called Storinal." Trig managed and took the ice pack from Zahara. He winced and carried on, "The stormies didn't even want me. As soon as Sera was secured on their Force-damned shuttle, they hit me over the head and left me on the steps of the local marshal's office."  
There was something incredibly odd about the whole situation, but Gat couldn't risk losing his only clue to Sera.  
He patted Trig's shoulder again and got ready to leave. "Thanks Trig. Don't worry; we'll get Sera back." He bared his teeth, "One way or another. We'll get her back."


	6. Storinal

Sera huddled in the corner of the little transparasteel cell that had been home sweet home for the past few weeks? Months?

' _Sithspit, I don't even know any more.'_ She grimaced as her stomach cramped again. It was her own stupid fault the Imp scientists had stopped feeding her last week when she'd tried to escape using nothing more than a sausage and the meal tray.

Although she hadn't gotten away, she **had** managed to see where they were keeping her stuff and severely wound three of the guards. Still, she had one more trick literally up her sleeve.

Sera touched the bone spike she'd kept hidden from the guards. They hadn't checked to make sure all of the bones in the meat were still there when they'd come to take her dinner away.

It wouldn't be long now until it was time for her make her move. She waited until it was close to the middle of the night shift before making her move.

Sera was glad they'd moved her to a cell with an old-fashioned mechanical lock; it had taken her four times escaping from the swanky mag lock cells before the Imps finally cottoned on and moved her down a floor to the records level, where old equipment and furniture came to die, just like she planned.

Judging that she'd waited long enough, Sera pulled the spike from its hiding place and stuck it in the lock's keyhole. As she rotated it, searching for the sweet spot that should let her disengage the mechanism, Sera vowed she'd have to pay her inside man double for confirming this ancient beauty was still here.

After a tense moment when she thought the bone sliver might snap, the lock clicked and the door swung open at her firm push. Sera grinned and started to quickly backtrack through the halls to where her objective was supposed to be.

Who'd have thought that the most efficient way for her to have confirmed the presence of Project Blackwing's remnants had been simply to sass the head of security to the extent that he'd had her dragged down to the secure levels for a quick beating off camera.

She'd caught a glimpse of familiar grey canisters and what had been worse, she'd 'heard' the voice again. Sera shuddered and wished she'd been given a different task. It had brought back all of those horrifying memories of the Purge.

It would be a real nightmare if those damn Imp scientists had truly managed to cultivate the plant she had found out was actually behind the plague that had turned the crew and prisoners on two ships into murderous animated corpses.

She rubbed the tender spot on her arm where the latest round of bloods had been taken. A part of her knew Luke was being sensible and it would be good to know if her blood still carried any traces of the Project Blackwing pathogen; but surely there were better ways to get the information.

Well, it wasn't supposed to be her job to question these things. It was her job though to retrieve the force-damned plant and make sure that Project Blackwing could never be revived by the Empire.

She padded silently through the corridors, senses on high alert for any sign of either scientists or guards. It seemed luck was with her as even the most hardcore of researchers had left for the night and she knew the guards were pretty lax.

 _'After all, who would want to break into the Center of Diseases?'_ She thought with a muffled snort.

"Well. Apart from me that is." Sera murmured as she used her trusty bone lock pick to pry open the cover of the entry panel for the lab she was looking for. It was the work of seconds to rewire the panel to accept the first 4 numbers she pressed and let her into the lab. She tiptoed in on silent feet and made a beeline for the refrigerated cabinets on the far side of the room.

There were a half-dozen vials filled with a disturbingly familiar greyish liquid.

Literal nightmare fuel.

A single leaking tank of this unholy plague had been enough to decimate the ten thousand strong crew of the super star destroyer, Vector, as well as all but six of the staff and prisoners of the Imperial prison barge, Purge.

"Force-damned morons." Sera muttered before grabbing the bottles and tucking them into her tunic top's inner pocket. She didn't know how exactly she was going to safely dispose of the highly contagious materials, ' _Possibly dropping them into a black hole, or shooting the kriffing things into a sun would do it._ '

She rooted around a bit more until she found the bottles filled with her blood. Thankfully, the Imps had left the lab terminal unlocked and Sera downloaded everything she could on the resurrected Project Blackwing.

She kept her mind on the job though; not wanting to get caught for real this time. As soon as the files had downloaded, Sera tapped in a few commands.

Commands that would wipe every trace of Blackwing from all networked terminals in the building.

Imps were dumb, but sneaky. She couldn't risk that they hadn't backed up the data in another lab.

She darted back out into the corridor, ready to find a way out of the building and out into Storinal proper so she could get back home.

Sera ran toward the loading bay, where her contact had said she would be most likely be able to escape.

' _Help!'_

The cry for help was only in her mind, but the volume of it forced her to skid to a halt.

The invisible presence was needy, and the whiny tone was uncomfortably familiar.

Sera most definitely didn't give her feet permission to follow the signs marked 'Greenhouse'. But nevertheless she found herself standing in front of one of the locked doors, hacking into the door lock.

She knew damn well what was behind the door.

Funnily enough, the knowledge of what she was going to find, really didn't make it any more appealing.

 _Hurry! It's so cold!_  

The voice in her head shrieked.

The door whooshed open, letting out a tide of warm, wet air. Sera grimaced, she hated the stench of rotting vegetation; it was horribly similar to the fetid atmosphere of the Vector and Purge post outbreak.

She didn't need to go more than a few steps into the room before she saw it.

A tiny sprout just pushing its way out of the wet black soil.

This.

This was the source of the screams.

The fucking idiots had managed somehow to cultivate the damn plant that was the base component of the Blackwing plague formula.

A large sensible part of her wanted nothing more than to set fire to the room, to destroy every trace of the plant but...

But force-sensitive plants were rare, and she knew she couldn't withstand the full force of Master Luke's disappointed face.

It was like kicking a puppy or something.

_'It's no big deal girl. Just get that transport capsule, transfer the kriffing plant and get the heck outta here before the night shift comes.'_

Sera scowled at the faint tremble of her hands. She was a Jedi (in training)! She shouldn't be scared of a force-damned weed!

Her fingers touched the soil and she had to bite back a scream when the plant swivelled to face her and spoke directly to her for the first time.

_Are you here to save me?_

"Shut up." Sera snapped. She sealed the silver capsule and thankfully the sprout went quiet.

A quick scout around the greenhouse convinced her that the Imps had only managed to successfully germinate one seed. The result of which was now dangling from the webbing strap of a carry case.

"Time to go." Sera muttered, pushing down the shiver of revulsion as the hard case bounced against her side.

Sera ran through the hallways, heading for the unmonitored exit her contact had pointed out would be her best bet for an unnoticed escape.

_'Thank the Force for lazy government employees!'_

Sera smiled when any sign or alarm failed to be raised. It wasn't easy running through the covered crates at a half crouch, but she didn't want to push her luck and get caught on one of the security feeds.

The girl let out a sigh of relief when she finally reached the far side of the warehouse without being spotted. Now all that stood between her and freedom was the grate to the waste chute. The large bolts weren't secured as tightly as she had anticipated and she felt a shiver of unease skitter down her back.

Still, the only way was forward.

Sera pulled and the grate came free with a quiet clang. She wiggled through the gap into the surprisingly roomy tunnel.

"Shades of hiding out on the Vector eh kid." She muttered, ignoring the sprout's questions.

Sera hurried to the end of the tunnel and struggled with the gate at the end. She was so close to the outside, it was almost physically painful to not be able to feel the breeze on her grimy skin.

The bone spike in her hand made an ominous cracking sound and Sera had to consciously loosen her grip.

She was also beginning to think that the dull lessons of moving objects with the force might not have been the waste of time she had previously thought.

She leaned her forehead against the metal, no longer noticing the stink. Her nerves were still frazzled by finding how far advanced the Imperial's research on Blackwing was.

She dismissed the quiet sound behind her as her imagination; after all, who else would be shuffling around in the waste disposal system?

"Well that's unexpected." A clipped voice said with a hint of amusement.

Sera whirled and acted on instinct, bringing down the shiv, burying it in the man's thigh. He hissed in pain and fell backward, revealing the three others behind him.

"I'm so scragged." Sera sighed.

There was a blonde woman behind the man she'd stabbed and Sera recognised a fellow force-sensitive.

"Ton, are you alright?" The woman asked quietly, not looking away from Sera's frightened gaze for a second.

The man with the metal plate over half his face groaned and pulled himself back upright, "I'm just peachy."

Sera felt the metal of the grate digging into her back and realised there was no way she could get around all of them in the narrow space. Hell, she didn't think she'd have been able to get around the beefcake bringing up the rear - he was almost as wide as he was tall.

"I take it you're not a fan of Imperial hospitality either?" The man she'd attacked said with a wry smirk.

Sera relaxed a fraction, these were clearly not CDC employees nor were they stormies.

Sarcasm she had in spades.

Sarcasm she could work with.

"Not really, the room service is terrible."

The woman, still suspicious, motioned for Sera to step aside as the big human male squeezed past to pluck the grate effortlessly from its place. Sera was aware of the absurdity of the situation - force only knew what a sight she must be after being locked in a cage without a refresher or hairbrush for gods knew how long.

The quartet had a whispered conversation that Sera wanted desperately to overhear but the damn sprout was crying again.

"You want out?" Sera looked up when the silver-furred bothan spoke.

"Does it really look like I want to stay in this hellhole?" She said, folding her arms in an attempt to look intimidating. Judging by the complete lack of fear response, she had fallen short of the mark.

Sera shrugged one shoulder and pushed her matted hair out of her eyes, leaving behind a wide streak of dirt. "Fine. I guess you can't be worse than where I've come from." Sera said, following the blonde out of the vent and into the night.

Sera took a giddy breath, inhaling the fresh air as deeply as she could. She had found herself increasingly claustrophobic since the events of eight-ish years ago.

As the four steered her away into the darkness, Sera didn't even notice the eyes in the bushes that watched them go.


End file.
